What Do We Call Ourselves?
by Racheakt
Summary: What do we call ourselves?  Oh- you know what everyone calls you, friend, family, names, but what do you call yourself?  Perhapse those you meet on this road hold the answer.  If you but ask...


A Note To The Reader:

Fallout 3 is certainly a fantastic work. A great deal of very obvious effort went into it's construction. The result is a magnificent world with interesting plots and characters inhabiting it.

It is, however, a fork by humans, and therefore flawed.

(Personally, I think they sacrificed too much plot in favor of open-endedness. But that's just me.)

The idea for this fic actually arose from the justbugsme page on tvtropes.

Very useful. The good people there have done the hard work in digging out the plot holes and such. And I've added a few ideas of my own.

For those who are wondering, this will be something a little different. I'm taking a number of very deliberate liberties here. In other words: WARNING: Alternate Character Interpretation. New villains, and maybe some new heroes. And definitely some heroes you don't expect. Elements of the other games will appear- it will be something of a blend of elements from each game. Not so much a re-imagining as… well, you'll see.

This will be the greatest Fallout story ever written.

Items of note: any character whose backstory is not elaborated on is free game. Some that are included will be getting a revamp. Yes, the followers will be appearing- all of them -so don't ask me about that. I'll need to do a bit of add-libbing, but I hop both the quality of the original work, and the sincerity of my own efforts yield results.

A final note, I have never been comfortable with the concept of self-insert in fiction, let alone fanfiction. Thus, as the Lone Wanderer is essentially that, I will be basing him off of another character from other media. As such, you may consider this a minor crossover. The first to guess both the character and the media will get an undisclosed gift. There will be two and a half clues.

Forward!

_**War Never Changes.**_

_War… war never changes. Since the dawn of human kind, when our ancestors first discovered the killing power of rock and bone, blood has been spilled in the name of everything. From God, to justice, to simple psychotic rage._

_In the year 2077, after a millennia of armed conflict, the destructive nature of man could sustain itself no longer. _

_The world was plunged into an abyss of nuclear fire and radiation. But it was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world. Instead, the apocalypse was simply the prologue to another bloody chapter of human history. For man had succeeded in destroying the world… but war… war never changes._

_In the early days, thousands were spared the horrors of the holocaust by takeing refuge in enormous underground shelters, known as vaults. But when they emerged, they had only the hell of the wastes to greet them – all except those in Vault 101. For on that fateful day, when fire rained down from the sky, the giant steel door of Vault 101 slid closed… and never reopened. _

'_It was here you were born. It is here you will die. Because, in Vault 101: no-one ever enters, and no-one ever leaves.'_

_**Chapter 1**_

_**Growing Up Fast**_

Surprise!

Did we surprise you?

Did you like your party?

Well it wasn't much. When your world is restricted to an oversized bomb shelter, one could hardly expect much. And it was nice, because underground, any break in the monotony is a blessing.

…

It was Allen's tenth birthday, and like any ten-year-old, he was bouncing.

The robot wrecked the cake. That was a disappointment. Weren't robots supposed to like cake?

(But that's not this story.)

This story is about to begin- but that's a stupid way to put it, in retrospect. Does the story begin at the cradle, with the babe's first cry? Does it begin the first night, when his parents meet, two great and passionate minds. Seeking to change this horrible, horrible world they inhabit, change it for the better. Flame in dark places. Hope. Is that when it begins?

Or is it when the bombs fall?

Or when the machinations of greed and corruption began to take hold, to drive the endless spiral down, down toward conflagration?

When is 'beginning'?

…

This story is about to begin- with 'happy birthday!' and 'Ten years old, if only your mother…' and sweet rolls. With frosting.

Yum.

There are several parties to the stage. The boy, Allen. The girl, his friend. Amata. Butch, the first outsider, the first case of _different_ for both of them. An important lesson. And maybe even a friend, in his own way.

The Overseer.

The Doctor.

The stage, the players.

Amata wanted to know if he was surprised. And Allen, being Allen, wilted slightly under the attention, scratched the back of her neck nervously, and admitted that he had.

"Hah. I knew we'd surprise you."

And they are happy, because they don't yet know the harsh touch of the world. War. War takes the young first.

War never changes.

Never.

…

But, let us return to these children.

…

Allen is not much to look at. He is, in a word, his father's child. With bright eyes and a nose that gets itself stuck in the corners of the world. Curious, inquisitive. Bright. Thin. A dreamer, content to read and think by himself, and in that contentment at ease with the world in general. This is dangerous, as it can lead to wasted potential, a lack of motivation.

It is fortunate, therefore, that his closest confident was of a very opposite sort. For Amata is a fighter.

Oh, she is not the sort for confrontation, per se, but she cannot look away from the world. She turns to face each unfolding chapter head-on with fists raised and a righteous fire in her heart, and in her eyes, and freely given to those around her.

It is somewhat strange, an impartial observer might note, that these two children's parents are at odds. For James is as like Allen, as Alphonse is like Amata. Instead of their children's comaradie, there is a strained distance, and they sit at opposite ends of the cafeteria; seated, so that each can watch the other.

This is a pity, both their children desire their approval, and it is never given, not in whole. But more particularly and severely in Amata's part. Her father is Overseer first, and almost never her father.

Allen's father is James walker first, and first medical officer as an afterthought.

Amata does not know yet that she envies Allen this.

Allen does not particularly like Amata's father. This is mostly because Amata's father does not like him. A distinguished man, and very aware of his own importance. He would be insufferable but for the fact that he was actually a very good Overseer. Difficult to like, especially because he was father second. Superior first.

But Allen 'not liking' someone is not what other people would call 'not liking'. So he stops to talk to Amata's father. Allen, being Allen, attempts to bring a smile to his face, like any other.

Amata's father leaves early.

…

"The only reason I came is because Amata's friends with that brat." Alphonse is confident he will not be overheard, "What she sees in him…"

…

In a community as small and enclosed as Vault 101, a willing smile and stubborn refusal to take offense is the sign of a leader. Another reason for the Overseer to dislike him.

James is different, and gently encourages his son, encourages Amata (who is the daughter he will never have), and quietly dreams his dreams. Less a leader than Alphonse, but more a visionary. And the Overseer dislikes him for that too- it's the quiet ones you've got to watch out for.

…

Both children lack mothers. Allen, because the wasteland is a harsh place of lacking. And Amata, well...

There are many reasons for Alphonse to hate the outside.

…

Life growing up in Vault 101 was not what most would call idyllic, but it was the life they knew.

And then...


End file.
